Locked Drawers
by Shiny Red Cape
Summary: CS Bangarang fic, theme: toys. Comments welcome and appreciated. Smut warning.


Hook lies sprawled over the mussed sheets. He can hear Emma in the shower of the adjoining bathroom and briefly considers joining her, but the activities of the afternoon have left him sated and lazy. He opts instead for a hard, shivering stretch as he gazes around the room. The last couple of months have been good.

He loves that he can just lie down, unashamedly naked, here her in her bedroom. Their bedroom (soon, soon, not too fast, she's doing so well). He stands and wanders the room, flicking through the odd paper, touching the little treasures she leaves scattered on her dressing table. The bottles and creams that altogether convalesce into that unique smell of her. A little smile plays on his lips, everything in this room is a intimate part of her, him included. Grinning fully now he throws himself back to the bed, absurdly happy. He opens the drawer next to the bed, and here's the book he left here last time, piled up with the e-reader she insists is better ("It can hold a whole library", "but you can only read one"). There's the jeweled bracelet he's slipped on her wrist when he snuck up behind her on her birthday. Later that night she'd wrapped it around a completely different body part, the memory of the cool hardness of the stones tangled in her fingers against his hot, hard flesh started arousal fizzing low in his stomach again. He reconsiders the bathroom door as he closes the drawer. Last time they had torn the shower rail down in a more passionate moment, and Emma had been annoyed later (much later, he loved that dazed look in her eye after they finish when she can't think at all and lies exhausted against him).

She'd be finished soon, the anticipation would only make it better.

His hand trails to the drawer below, but it doesn't open. Heigh-ho? Locked? Attention captured he leans down closer. Emma had been amazingly, unbelievably open with him since they came back from the Enchanted Forest, there was no reason for her to lock things away. He eyed the small keyhole and quirked an eyebrow up to his hook, resting next to the lamp. Really, if you were going to hide something in such a flimsily built piece of furniture you were really inviting someone to pick the lock.

That was a simple truth.

How much time did he have? He could hear her rinsing her hair out; enough then, this wouldn't take long. Reattaching his hook, he inserted the tip into mechanism, and after a few minor adjustments felt it click open. The flush of success fades to puzzlement as he opens the drawer to see a lurid shade a pink he wouldn't usually associate with his other half. He reaches in to bring it out to the light, a soft/hard shape it reminds him strangely of the jello in the hospital. It's -

He pauses as the realization hits. It's unmistakable phallic. They may not have had all the modern conveniences in the Forest, nor such interesting materials to make things from, but such things weren't entirely unfamiliar to him. Pleasure had been his fond acquaintance for many years. He chuckles, long and low to himself. Well well. He glances back down to see what other delights might be tucked away, but all he finds is a small bottle of oil, and an odd, silver shape. Much smaller, it didn't look as... satisfying as the solid weight of the first.

Emma chooses that moment to step back into the bedroom, still wet from the shower, towel clutched around her. The sight of Hook, naked, but for his namesake, and holding his discoveries with an unmistakably smug smile, stops her dead. Heat clutches low even as the embarrassment spreads because God! Talk about an inviting picture. She walks to him in a hopeless attempt to divert attention as she orders the blush to stop climbing her cheeks.

"That was locked"

In a movement almost to fast to see he's caught the corner of the towel and spins her down under him. The fall leaves her naked, the damp cloth trapped underneath them. "Aye, it was" he agrees amicably. He takes the tip of her breast in his mouth for a hard, nipping suck that he knows she loves, fingers pinching its twin until he hears that gasping cry he loves to pull from her, then opening her lips with his as he breathes "Pirate" into her mouth before giving her a deep, wet kiss.

When he pulls back she's panting, and he's basking in the utterly male satisfaction of rendering her needy and pliable.

"What I want to know," he says, making sure his body stays in contact with hers as leans over to take the silver thing, "is what this does". He lifts away from her, enjoying the small, pleading noise that she can't quite keep to herself. "This," a gesture to the pink shaft is accompanied by his fingers reaching down between her legs and flickering briefly, teasing as her wet entrance "is obvious. But this doesn't look like it would be enough". A hot, dark look fills his eyes as he moves his gaze back up to her face "I know how you like to be filled Emma".

She shivers hard, her voice not quite steady "It's not for that". She reaches out and pushes a hereto unseen button on the base, and he nearly drops it as the thing starts to buzz, a quiet vibration on his palm. At his momentary blank look she reaches down and brushes her clit once with her finger, biting her lip as the sensation makes her want to squirm against him. A new, entirely carnal knowledge fills the smile on his face. "Why Swan, aren't you full of surprises". He focuses his attention on running the cool back curve of his hook over her hard nipple, and asks, all casual inquiry, "How long have you been... independently motivated in this regard?". She looks at him, too damn pleased with the effect he's having on her and answers just a little bit defiant; "It's less complicated than people". He softens his demeanor a little. This is supposed to be fun for both of them. "You saw me in the tavern, I'd be the last to judge love" and he leans up and kisses the vulnerable spot where her neck meets her shoulder. Hot and gentle in her ear her whispers, "Did you use it after Neverland? Did you think of that kiss and say my name as you came?"

She tenses, and the blush on her face is immediate, and vibrant, and leaves Hook completely frozen in place looking at her. He had been teasing, expecting denial.

But she had.

A sudden, vivid image of Emma pleasuring herself, calling out for him, takes him from playful to instantly, disgracefully hard. This is a whole new game. His eyes are locked on hers and his voice is as rough and deep as dark rum. Demanding and utterly undeniable.

"I want to see"

She balks, but suddenly his hands are everywhere. He's fingering her roughly between her legs and the scruff of his beard is rasping her oversensitive breasts. He's ramping her arousal up and it's forcing desperate, hungry sounds from her throat. Just as the world is starting to spin away he stops. Abrupt and ruthless he denies her final pleasure, waits until she calms enough to focus her vision, and looks directly into her eyes.

"I want to see"

Dammit, but she needs him.

She moves her shaky limbs over, intending to turn them so she can ride him, so he can see her while she uses the bullet, but he stops them.

"No. I want to see it all".

How can he say that so shamelessly? She's confused until he takes the toys and turns her around to sit her between his open legs. He opens the little bottle of oil and drizzles it down the centre of her cheeks, rubbing his manhood down the line of her until they're both slick, and slippery, and she's pushing helplessly back against him. A deep, rumbled groan emerges from somewhere inside his chest. He opens her legs and drapes them over his, and she comes to the hazy realization that there is a perfect view from the mirror opposite the bed, that she's lying wantonly open to his scorching gaze. He rolls her nipple between his fingers and she melts against him, breath heavy and wanting. Gods, just look at her. Why does he ever let her wear clothes?

He runs the bullet down her body slowly. leaving it resting on her exposed clit. A second passes and a short, sharp buzz makes her jerk hard, and give a harsh shout.

He nips her ear and whispers into it "Too much? But I like it when you're out of control Emma." His eyes refuse to leave hers in the mirror "I like it when you're desperate, when all you want is me thrusting inside you and you'll do anything-" he grinds deliberately against her "anything to have me". He loves talking dirty to her. Even now, she finds it hard to say what she wants with him, too many years of having things denied her. So he revels in telling her every small thing about her that turns him on, what he's going to do and how good she's going to feel. He loves seeing the image he describes sink into her and make her moan.

He guides the thick, rubber shaft into her hand and down. "Here love, don't you ache just there? Don't you just feel empty without it?" She gives long, hard arch as she pushes it in and he watches it disappear into her. The moan that escapes her has him tensing, giving a thrust into the warm cushion surrounding him, a wicked, yielding slide. She's thrusting now, with small, keening whimpers as it moves inside her, and he can't tear his eyes away. "Let's try this again love" and he pushes the small button into her hand "I want to see you touch yourself". She brings it back down to the tiny bundle of nerves that so desperately needs it and fumbles for the switch.

The vibration makes her shout again, and she tries to move her hips up up UP, but he's anchored his hand to her waist, keeping the movement of her rubbing intimately against him. Her head falls back, his shoulder supporting her as he turns his face into her neck. It's too much. She can't keep the rhythm of the thick weight inside her and still keep that delicious vibration pressed there, there where she needs it. She's so far past embarrassment she's practically sobbing as she begs.

"Its OK love, I've got you". He fills his hand with her breast and moves his hook down, the tip sinking into the pink base and pushing up, filling her again, firm, and keeping it in place. Everything starts to disappear as her limbs stiffen and his hand jumps down pushing the buzzing machine hard against her. She comes explosively, calling his name in a long, piercing cry, and it's enough to push him over with a growl and a hard, wet spurt at her back. She tries to pull away but he's not done with her. Tipping her forward to her hands and knees he refuses to release the vibration. She can't think, can't stop, can't breathe as her body locks into place again and the scream as she comes the second time echoes around the room.

They collapse, sticky and satisfied, face-down on the bed. For a few minutes there's nothing but shaking limbs and panting breaths and Killian's weight on her as he speaks soft love words into the back of her neck. He recovers before she does, and drags her into his arms under the covers. She couldn't have moved even if she'd wanted to. The last sound that registers before she succumbs to sleep is his sleepy, satisfied laugh. "You're going to need another shower"


End file.
